


Sometime's It's Like Someone Took A Knife, Baby, Edgy And Dull, And Cut A Six Inch Valley Through The Middle Of My Skull

by Maxumsurprise



Category: 1917 (Movie 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst, Blake almost died lol. but he's gucci, Cheating, I guess? It's like mentioned in passing, M/M, PTSD, Period-Typical Homophobia, Porn with Feelings, Repressed Emotions, The oc would be will's wife lol, vague smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:01:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22835956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maxumsurprise/pseuds/Maxumsurprise
Summary: Every morning, he wakes up panting like he’d just bolted across No Man’s Land next to his wife, who is soft and unscarred and quiet, and she puts her hand on his arm and gently tells him to go back to sleep. There are no scars on her body (no ugly mark where a knife had been plunged in and twisted), and her eyes are brown, not gray. It’s all wrong.-In which Will takes a surprise visit to Tom, because it's no use to deny ones feelings.
Relationships: Tom Blake/William Schofield, William Schofield/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 63





	Sometime's It's Like Someone Took A Knife, Baby, Edgy And Dull, And Cut A Six Inch Valley Through The Middle Of My Skull

**Author's Note:**

> Title from I'm On Fire by Bruce Springsteen. Pretty much embodies the whole spirit of the fic lol. There is smut so please turn away if you're under 18!!

Will wakes with a jolt, feeling cool glass against his forehead. It takes him a moment to realize he’s on a train, not in the trenches. The year is 1920, and Will Schofield is safe. At least, he should be. True, he isn’t being shot at anymore, but he still can’t eat, can’t sleep. Something ugly and smoky rolls around in his chest, desire, fear - dread.

Every morning, he wakes up panting like he’d just bolted across No Man’s Land next to his wife, who is soft and unscarred and quiet, and she puts her hand on his arm and gently tells him to go back to sleep. There are no scars on her body (no ugly mark where a knife had been plunged in and twisted), and her eyes are brown, not gray. It’s all wrong.

Everything is wrong.

Scho was walking his girls to school when a car sputtered on the street, sounding like a heavy machine gun. He feels his body twitch and cringe and can’t look his girls in the eyes.

He drops out of medical school. He quits his job at the pharmacy. He kisses, on a drunken whim, a man who looks enough like Blake, and comes home disgusted with a nasty bruise he lies about. 

All of it led to here, to now, to buying a train ticket and getting the hell out without telling anyone where he is going. Not even his wife, who must have woken to a cold bed an hour or so ago. 

Scho rubs his eyes. Soon, his stop would arrive. Soon, he would see Blake. When the younger man thought he was dying, twisting and gasping for breath, he gave Scho an address to his mother’s house. Unintentionally, it had been pinned to Will’s mind, worn into his heart.

The conductor called the stop and Will stood up. Exiting the train car, he was on solid ground and in a shop to ask for directions. 

Blake talked about home all the time. Everyone did, but Scho could see why he liked it so much. The town was neat and clean, the air smelling sweet. The few people he passed by, probably late to work, either smiled or greeted him. London was colder. In the city, the safest bet was to mind one’s own business.

The Blake's farm was smaller than Will had imagined. Tom always bragged about it, like it was some sprawling orchard or manor. Still, the grass was green and the house looked cozy, fences all mended and flowers in the garden. Will couldn’t help but smile when he saw a curious young foal watching him from over the fence. His daughters would have loved this. Trying not to think about them, Scho stepped forward and extended his arm gingerly. A velvet muzzle settled on his palm, soft breaths landing like clouds. 

“Schofield, right?” Startling the foal, Scho whipped around to see the eldest Blake son, Joseph. Will’s mind blanked on a reason why he was here, now, after three years, looking for someone he hadn’t even written to.

“Yes. You’re Joe.” 

“Didn’t mean to startle you,” Joe grinned, with the same honey sweet smile as his brother. “Looking for Tom?”

“Yeah,” Will muttered, rubbing his arm.

Joe motioned towards the house, the other man trotting after. “Tom didn’t mention you were coming.”

“That’s - well, I didn’t tell him. Call it a surprise.”

The door to the house banged open as Will and Joe walked inside. Sunlight pooled in from the windows, scrubbed perfectly clean. A ceramic bowl of cherries was on the table. “Hungry?”

Will shook his head. He was too queasy to eat, sick from the thrill of actually seeing Tom again. 

“That’s ok. I know Mum’s out back with the chickens. Think Tom’s resting,” Joe pondered.

Scho nodded mechanically, remembering another time Blake had rested, reclined in his arms, nearly bled out. They both thought he was dying. They both thought -

“Hey fatass, Will is here!” the older Blake yelled up the stairs.

“Will who?” rang out a voice so familiar Will’s stomach hurt. He should leave before Tom came down and saw him. This was a terrible idea.

“Schofeild!”

“Scho’s here?” There was a thundering of feet on the stairs as Tom ran down them. Will froze when he saw his friend enter the kitchen, a look of amazement and something like hurt on his face.

The tension in the house suddenly became thick enough to dice into tiny cubes of things Will should have told Blake. With a soldier’s air of self-preservation, Joe said, “I’ll tell Mum you’re here, Schofield. Nice seeing you.” 

Both men let out a sigh of relief when the front door slammed to a close. Tom crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. He was wearing a white shirt with suspenders, the sleeves rolled up, and Will couldn’t stop looking at his arms, of all stupid things.

“You never wrote me.” Blake could never stay quiet long. “Never gave me an address, either. But you had mine.”

Scho rubbed his hand over his eyes. “What’s there to say?”

“I almost died,” Blake snarled, uncharacteristically mean. 

“Yeah. I was there,” Will spluttered out. “But I made it. I saved your brother.”

“No shit,” Tom said, stalking moodily towards the sink and facing away from the other man in the room. Will stood, silent. This was far from how he had imagined their reunion going. Idiot. What had he thought, that he was going to be swept up into the younger man’s arms, kissed, and then taken to bed?

“Why are you so mad at me?” Scho broke the silence, even though he already knew the answer. Tom didn’t reply, not even looking at him. “Blake. Blake.” No response. “Tom.”

At that, Blake whipped around. He looked like a deer in the headlights, body stiff with alarm and anger. Scho had seen Blake like this before, just never directing his emotions at him. 

“You shouldn’t have come here,” Blake said. “You remind me of too much, Will.”

“Fuck’s sake, Tom, it’s not like I was your bloody boyfriend!” Immediately, Scho knew it was the wrong thing to say. The air crackled with new electricity, Blake’s fists now balled up at his sides.

“If that’s true, Schofield, stop making bedroom eyes at me all the time.” Will wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of the statement, but Blake looked and sounded deadly serious.

“You see what you want to see,” Scho retorted, and didn’t miss the ghost of a smile on his friend’s face. Growing bolder at Blake’s inquisitive look, he added, “I could make some real bedroom eyes at you, if you like.”

“Will,” Tom said quietly, Scho freezing at the sound of his name. “Did you come here just to make passes at me? What about your wife?”

“She doesn’t know where I am. I just - I needed someone.” I needed you. “Things aren’t the same at home. I can’t sleep, I’m always bored, I just - I’m lonely, Blake.” Will didn’t register that he was choked up until he finished talking. He couldn’t cry, not here, not in front of the younger man. He shouldn’t have spilled his guts like that either. Tensing up, he watched Tom cross the room, silently taking Will’s hands in his own, warm and calloused from days of farm work. 

“I know, Scho. It’s okay.”

“I quit medical school,” Will sniffled. “My parents saved up for years for it - “ he cut off his words suddenly when Blake’s arms wrapped around him. Slowly, unsure, Scho hugged Blake back, feeling the heat of another body pressed to him for what felt like the first time. 

“I remember waking up in the aid station and looking for you,” Blake said softly. “Nobody knew where you were. Nobody knew who you were. Joe came to see me, though. He said you found him, and that you hit your head, but you seemed ok. So, I waited. I waited for you until they told me I could go home, for going on that mission and damn near bleeding out.”

“I’m sorry,” Scho whispered into Blake’s neck. “I didn’t know. You aren’t married, it’s different for you. No one is depending on you not to fuck things up and keep pretending you’re actually living the right life.”

“You’re in love with me, Will,” Blake murmured. 

“No,” Will trembled, immediately untangling himself with a fervor. “I’m not fucking queer.”

“That’s not what I said. All I said was that you were in love with me.” Blake put a hand on his hip. Will knew he was trying not to show it, but hurt was clear as day in Tom’s eyes.

Scho was silent, mentally flipping the options over like cards. He could admit it, and pray to God that he was reading the signs right, that Blake felt the same - or he could leave now and pretend this never happened.

“I’ve always known,” Tom added, doubt now creeping into his voice. “I mean, you always seemed to hang around me more than anyone else, so I thought, maybe… Scho?”

“My head hurts,” Will lied, pretending his heart wasn’t oozing and aching out of his chest.

“D’ya need to lay down?” Blake asked. Not waiting for an answer, the younger man gently escorted him up the stairs to his bedroom.

“I’m not sick,” Scho snapped as he was herded into the room. “Nothing’s wrong with me!” 

“The only thing wrong with you is that you don’t shut up,” Tom grumbled, but from the smirk on his lips Will could tell he didn’t mean it. His lips… Will didn’t think he’d ever wanted someone so bad. His desire filled all the empty space, pushing from the floor from the ceiling, as if going to collapse into the rooms below. Finally, they were alone. No bombs, no sergeants, no rats, no Joe. Just silence, and the anticipation that was going to kill Scho. He was going to be the first man dead from lack of kisses.

Will jumped when Tom grabbed his wrist, placing his hand over his heart, which Will could feel pounding below the thin cotton. 

“Please,” said Blake, and Will knew what he was asking for. The distance between them shortened, Scho feeling dizzy with the warmth of Blake’s breath on his lips as they both waited, for the door to slam open, to wake up and realize this was just a fever dream, a shared delusion, for - Scho kissed him. 

Kissing girls had nothing on kissing Blake. What he lacked in technique he made up for with enthusiasm and eagerness to please. Scho moaned when he felt Blake press into him, arching his back, the younger man taking the opportunity to nibble on Will’s bottom lip. Will felt like he was on fucking fire, pawing at Tom urgently anywhere he could reach. He wanted to die like this, surrounded by Blake, his hands on him everywhere.

Blake broke the kisses to suggest they get on the bed, to which Scho nodded.

“Are you okay?” Blake asked, settling sitting up against the headboard and pillows.

“I’m fucking dreaming,” Scho exhaled. Blake pulled him onto the bed, onto his lap. Will kissed him again, trying to show he was sorry for staying away for so long. He whimpered when Tom drew away from his mouth, placing sloppy, hot kisses along Will’s neck. Will shivered, tilting his head back unconsciously to give him more room. The feeling sent heat rolling through his stomach, to where he was quickly (and embarrassingly) becoming hard. Scho slipped his hands up Blake’s shirt, against his stomach still soft with puppy fat Will didn’t think he’d ever outgrow. He rubbed circles with his thumb over the soft skin, causing Tom to cant his hips up, pressing urgently against Scho.

“Sensitive?” he asked teasingly.

“Not as much as you,” Blake retorted, gently biting on Scho’s neck.

“Fuck!” Will hissed under his breath, electricity buzzing through his body. He couldn’t breathe as Blake grabbed his hips, pushing them down against his own. Genly, Scho rolled them forward, feeling the other man rub against him. Blake held him, helping establish a rhythm that had both of them panting.

“That’s it, Scho,” Tom murmured, pressing more kisses on his neck. Will trembled at the praise. They stayed like that for a while, Will listening to Blake moan his name as they sped up, friction from their clothes and the grinding enough for now. Scho tried to memorize every detail, the way Blake’s hips stuttered against his own, the way he let out little whimpers when Scho carded his hands through the other man’s hair, the fire in his belly from this, barely touching.

“I’m close,” Blake gasped.

“Come on then,” Scho murmured, giving Blake’s hair a light tug. It happened fast, the younger man clinging on to Will for dear life as he finished, trembling and desperately rocking up. After that display, it only took Will a few more rolls of his hips to finish in his pants like a fucking teenager, which should have been embarrassing, but it was was Blake and there was nothing to worry about. With both of them now stilled, Scho pet through Tom’s hair, hearing him sigh.

“That why you came all this way, Scho? To bed me?” Blake asked, voice muffled as he pressed into Will’s shoulder.

“Part of it,” Scho grinned. “Honestly, I didn’t expect to get this far, though.”

“Next time, I’ll let you get farther.”

“Next time?” Will barely thought he would survive today, never mind doing this again. He would be lying if he said the idea didn’t excite him.

“If you want,” Blake added quickly.

“Of course,” Will said.

Blake removed his head from his lover’s shoulder to look at Scho properly, who missed the warmth. “Stay through the night, Scho.”

Will couldn’t say no, even if he wanted to. Part of him knew his wife was still at home, and probably wondering where he had run off to. He knew that should’ve inspired guilt, but honestly, he couldn’t bring himself to care. The adoring look in Blake’s eyes, the warmth of them tangled together - it was all a dream. Scho wanted to soak up this moment as much as he could, replay it when he was at home cold and under his own covers.

“Yeah, okay, but we should get cleaned up,” Will sighed, the task suddenly seeming monumental.

“In a moment, Scho,” Blake said sleepily, snuggling back into the other man.

“In a moment,” Will agreed, closing his eyes. This moment was all he needed.

**Author's Note:**

> Whew! Thank you for reading :) Come chat with me on tumblr @Undertelevisionskiess


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